Thursday, January 25, 2007

Genre Parody

'Who the fuck is this?' 'It's cool -- Josie sent me.' 'Bullshit -- this is a fucking setup! I smell bacon -- you a cop, bitch?' 'Hey, fuck you! I got your shit right here. Now are you going to tell the twins to put down their racquets so we can so some business or what?'

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Reader Mail #5


Been a while since I did one of these -- this one was submitted by "Anonymous", 22 September 2006. They always seem to be from “Anonymous”, don’t they? Maybe it’s only by abandoning all sense of self and personal aggrandisement that true comedy genius can be achieved. Something to think about.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

Fan Art #1

A Monkey with Fluids

My birthday present from forensic gynaecologist and part-time sexual Tyrannosaur, RSJS: a kilt-wearing, top-hatted monkey with accompanying fluids.

Jar of Monkey Fluids

Not pictured: Small child named Timmy.

(Check out the photographic artworks of RSJS here, and the workblog of his latest project here -- warning: may contain Emo.)

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Friday, January 12, 2007

Today is my Birthday

You may ply me with adulation... now.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

From the Latest Foetuswear Catalogue:

Mabel had been saving her pennies -- soon she would have enough to get the conjoined foetus removed. Until then, the least she could do was dress it up pretty.

Also, play with the Labels over on the right there. Hours of fun, for a given value of "fun".

Wednesday, January 10, 2007


Well, since it's my birthday in a couple of days, and since Blogger supports it properly now, I've splashed out on the domain name. Update your bookmarks! Or not -- the old address will continue to work as well.

I'm about to update the shirts in the CafePress stores with the new address -- the handful of you who've bought garments already can bask in the smugness of knowing that your merchandise is now "limited edition" or "classic" or "before Josh got all big-headed and sold out -- you've changed man, you've changed."

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

A Slayer's Work is Never Done

Bertie would come to regret his choice of moustache style after a chance encounter with Buffy the Brazilian Hitler Clone Slayer. 'Look Willow -- another one! Good thign I brought Mr. Clubby!'

I'm pretty sure that's two Gratuitous Pop Culture References in one there. Monkey Fluids: value for money. If you were actually paying money to read this, that is.

Friday, January 05, 2007

The Foetid Stench of Capitalism

Yeah, so there are some ads over on the right now. I'm currently diggin' on Project Wonderful -- it combines the competitive allure of eBay with the exposure and self-aggrandisement of MySpace!

Of course, since it goes by competing bids, not paying per click, the chances of me making anything from it are contingent on more than four people wanting to advertise here at once. Not looking hopeful. Nevertheless, click an ad or two to support what looks to be a very nifty system, and look for Monkey Fluids buttons popping up on sites considerably more popular than this one.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Back in Black and White

Holy crap -- it's, like, a new year and everything! That means an entirely new number at the end of every date. I'm struggling to cope.

Good things to happen to me over these holidays included the first occasion on which I was recognised by a complete stranger for my Monkey Fluids shirt -- hi to Sarah from New World in Warkworth. (Was it Sarah? I'm reliably shit at remembering names -- you know who you are.) Also, confirmation of my suspicion that I am an idol to teenagers worldwide. The tumescence of my ego rests squarely upon their heads. You heard me.

Less good things included the observation that a vast percentage of visitors over the last few weeks have been people searching various engines for horse fucking, drawn like moths to a flame to the title of this recent post. Actually, I lie -- that was one of the good things, too.

Enough reminiscence -- on with the show...

Lack of exposure to women caused some odd fetishes among the public school boys: 'Righto, chums -- let's get this dirty wee slut-board back to our rooms for a group funting! Coming, Bertie?' 'No thanks, lads -- I'm going to spend some time with this cheeky little easel...'